


Porcelain

by orphan_account



Category: Neapolitan, Original Work
Genre: And anorexia, Chid abuse is a thing that happens, Dumb original fiction, I'm Sorry, M/M, Oh also incest, P much a backstory for some ocs I guess, Shitty beginning, They fuck in the later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:12:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1638338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caspar has always been in love with his half brother, Luciano. But what happens when, maybe, Luciano likes him back? ((AN: Please ignore the summary its not even accurate to the story. Also rated E for dat yaoi sex in later chapters yeah.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shatter me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. Wow I'm not sure exactly what to say other than this story started out as a backstory for my Boyfriend's oc Caspar, and I wrote a backstory for my oc Luciano to go along with Caspar's because being the stupid dorks that we are, Boyfriend and I ship our ocs. Really hard. Not sure when this will be updated or if it'll go on past chapter five or six, but yeah. This is why I dont write things like ever. Shitty beginning is shitty, sorry.
> 
> Tw for child abuse, self harm, anorexia, and hella gay incest. It gets better and less sad I promise. Maybe.

I gritted my teeth, dragging the razor across my thigh, the blood slowly gushing out of the new cut and dripping onto the floor. I heard a noise outside my room. I’m not one for religion, but I prayed that it was anyone but Mother. I don’t mind Claire. I dont mind Caspar or Tabitha. I can tolerate Thomas. But I can’t deal with my Mother. She’s broken me and she knows it, but she doesn’t feel any regret. I quickly hid the razor under my pillow and pulled my jeans up. If Mother knew I cut myself she’d only ridicule me for it. I dont need any more torment, but I’m sure I’m about to go through hell again. I got up and locked the door, quickly diving back into bed and pretending to be asleep. It’s only 4 pm. I have horrible insomnia. I don’t think I’m convincing whoever is outside my door, but it’s worth a shot. If it’s Mother I’ll be beaten either way, convincing reason not to answer the door or not. There was a knock on the door and I froze. I’m usually able to shapeshift or make myself invisible. That doesn’t work when it comes to extreme fear. All I could do is hope that whoever is outside my room is someone other than my Mother. I didnt say anything. I didn’t move. I just lay there hoping that whoever is on the other side of the door will leave me alone. Another knock on the door. I didn’t answer it, again.

“Luciano. Open the damned door. Better not be fucking locked, god damnit.” The voice said. I recognized the voice and immediately wished I could die. It was my Mother, and she wasn’t happy. Then again, she never really is. I’m never good enough. Maybe that’s my fault, however. She hammered her fist against the door, yelling something that I didn’t pay attention to, in fear of what she was saying to me. I heard the sound of my door unlocking. I’m not sure how she did that. She is a woman, after all, so maybe she used a hairpin or something similar to pick the lock. Mother threw the door shut behind her, quickly walking over to my bed and grabbing my long hair, yanking me out of bed. I’ve always wanted to have shorter hair, but it’s easier for her to abuse me if I have long hair, so I’ve never been allowed to cut it.

“Dont bullshit me, Luciano. I know you aren’t asleep. Fucking pathetic.” She growled. And she was right. I’m not a heavy sleeper, the pounding on my door would’ve woken me up if I was lucky enough to get some sleep, despite my insomnia that makes sleep near impossible. I knew what would happen next of course. However, I often always do. It's not difficult to explain my Mother and I's relationship; it's just abuse, false senses of security, and manipulation. For the next hour or two I'd be dealing with being beaten and berated, and then left in a pool of my own blood to think about how much I loathe myself. Shortly after my Mother was finished with the abuse, for now, there was a knock on my door. I'm not religious however I started praying to whatever god there is that it would be anyone but Mother on the other side of the door. I got up, my hands shaking as I slowly turned the knob and looked outside. Thankfully it was my Brother. Well, one of them. Caspar. He stared at me for a moment, as if he was shocked at how battered I was. I leaned against the doorframe.

“...What?” I asked, staring at Caspar. I do love him, but Jesus Christ, he can be such an idiot.

“..A-Are you okay..?” He stuttered. I laughed, quietly, however not a happy laugh. Moreso the laughter of a mental patient who had finally lost it. I glared at him.

“Do I l-look okay to you...?” God damnit, I've had a stutter for as long as I can remember, but I hate it. I sound so fucking stupid when I speak. Maybe that's why I'm silent most of the time. He shook his head slowly, his eyes wide.

“No... Y-You dont.” He said; and I knew it was true. I'm not okay. Never really have been. The conversation moved to how Claire made dinner and Caspar wanted me to come down and eat something. I turned away from the door and mumbled that I'd be there. I dont know if Caspar would approve of my measly answer, but nonetheless I closed the door and went to clean myself up. The thing about hating yourself and how you look is that while you dont care enough to look good for yourself, you're still petrefied of what other people think of you. I tied my hair back up and changed into clothes that werent full of blood.

I've stopped looking in mirrors recently. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because my body disgusts me, maybe it's because I've gotten tired of constantly seeing bruises and scars all over myself. Whatever the reason was, I've covered my bedroom mirror with a sheet and refused to even acknowledge it. I guess the only good thing about that is I've gotten good at putting on makeup and doing my hair without having to look at myself. Slowly walking downstairs and into the kitchen, I silently sat at the table. I didnt look forward to eating anything at all. Never do, really. I guess you can call it an eating disorder but I havent been eating recently, and it's noticeable. Well, not really. The people of Neapolitan are born with two abilities, mine are shapeshifting and invisibility, the first one I mentioned is what I've been using all the time so that nobody worries about me. It started out as a way to hide the scars that my Mother's given me from her abuse, but now that you can feel my goddamn ribcage and see my disgusting hip bones, it's convenient to know that nobody can tell the difference from what I make myself look like and what I really look like. Nobody talked much during dinner and I guess I was glad for that, I'm not one for conversations at all. I was able to get off scot free for eating almost nothing by saying that I just didnt have an appetite. With having the shit kicked out of me about half an hour earlier, I dont think it'd be unreasonable to not be hungry. I dont think anyone would be after going through that, anyway. Eating around other people is something I cant stand, and I'm good with math so I subconsciously count calories and things like that in my head so I'm always hoping that nobody notices as I stare off into space and quickly calculate things. Also, I'm not bilumic, I dont have a gag reflex so I couldnt be if I tried. Maybe that's a good thing. Not eating is bad enough, I'm not stupid like my Mother says. But I'm always either too fat or disgustingly thin, there's no in-between and maybe that's the real reason I hate how I look. I have wide hips and long hair because I've never been allowed to cut it, Mother says I look like an ugly girl and maybe it's true. I just want to be up to par with her standards, but maybe she doesnt have any, maybe that's why I'm never good enough. Anyways, after dinner I was up in my room laying in bed doing nothing. Mother had twisted my good wrist backwards earlier, and there was no use in trying to paint with both wrists injured. I like painting, I'm very skilled at it and it's one of the only ways to let out emotions. The next few hours were somewhat uneventful as Mother had gone out, which I was thankful for. When she's not home I have time to do things and not worry about being beaten or insulted, which usually happen on an almost daily basis. I say almost because every so often, my Mother, being part of the Anarchy, has to fight in the war against the Idealist union. She can be gone for weeks, days, even months, and I'm always glad and secretly hoping that maybe, this time, she wont come back. Unfortunately this time she was simply out doing god knows what, most likely nothing war related.

Deciding that I didnt care about my wrist hurting, I sighed quietly as I swirled my paintbrush around in the glass of water, frowning as I realized how dark it was. With it being to the point where the paint content of the water was starting to affect how bright the colors on the canvas, I decided to go downstairs and clean out the cup I was using. Slowly into the kitchen I went, but nearly stopping dead in my tracks when noticing that one of my younger brothers, Thomas, was there. I internally cursed myself and hoped that he wouldnt say anything to me, however, my hoping proved ineffective as we were soon talking to eachother. Something about him talking about school and tests soon turned into an argument. Sighing and not wishing to deal with Thomas's antics any more, I walked out of the kitchen, glass of water in hand. I hadnt noticed Caspar or Tabitha over Thomas and I's arguing, which, really was a stupid argument. It's not my fault I'm not allowed to go to school. For someone who doesnt want anyone to know about their abusive habits, Mother certainly doesnt try very hard to hide it. When I noticed that Caspar and Tabitha were talking and Caspar was crying, I knew something was definately wrong. I'm not stupid, I'm able to tell if someone's lying about being okay, because I do it myself.

"....Are you alright?" I asked. It was a stupid question because I already knew the answer is actually 'no'. People dont start crying for no reason, after all.

"J-Just school problems," he said. "It doesnt really matter." ...What a liar. I'm being a hypocrite, sure, but he doesnt have to lie to me or anything. Idiot. Tabitha soon walked off, saying she'd 'pricked herself on a pin' or something.

"But it does matter," I rolled my eyes, setting the glass of water in my hands down on the coffee table and sitting where Tabitha was before she left. "Dont you remember, when we were kids? If you're going through anything, I told you that you ought to tell me. Why didnt you tell me?" Memories of that aforementioned event started playing in my head. I remeber it clearly, though, I've always had good memory. I was hiding under the couch because I knew I'd be safe from my mother there. I've always been small and the couch is pretty high up off the floor, if I really tried I could still probably get under there.

"You can tell me things, too." Caspar whispered. I knew I was glaring at him and I'm sure I might've looked a little intimidating if it's possible to be intimidated by someone who looks like a girl and is so thin that they can barely stand on their own two feet. I'm pathetic and I look pathetic too, it's not as if anyone does have a real reason to be afraid of me. The worst I can manage is a few harsh words and not much else.

"That's not the point," I sighed. "I want you to tell me things." I leaned in closer to Caspar and raised an eyebrow, staring into his eyes. "Do you promise me, Caspar?" He leaned in as well and one of his hands cupped my cheek. All I really wanted at this point was for him to stop touching me, but I guess I could deal with it for the time being. Him touching me didnt hurt, unlike when Mother touches me in any way. That always ends in a few bruises.

"I promise, as long as you promise to tell me what's on your mind, too." ...I dont like compromising. Never have. Why is it so hard for him to just fucking tell me what's wrong with him? I nodded quickly. The worst I'd have to tell him is just things about my Mother and such. He already knows. I dont have anything to lose with this. It happened quickly, really. I never really would've pictured myself at age 13 kissing my half-brother, but then again, I never know what's in store for myself so everything is always a bit surprising for me. I've kissed people before, and the feeling of it for the first time is new, to say the least. However by now I'm used to it, and Caspar certainly isnt bad at it, so I cant really complain. As perfect as it was, it was rather short-lived, as Caspar soon pulled away and both of us sat there in silence.

"...You took my first kiss," Caspar mumbled. Good job capitain obvious, I never would've fucking known. I smiled, slightly. "Would you like to be my second kiss, too?" He questioned. Fuck. I probably looked a bit reluctant, which, I wasnt. I was just surprised that someone would want to kiss someone as disgusting as me. However, it's not as if I didnt want to kiss him again. Caspar is like a drug, really. Once you try it you're hooked and need more. Quickly enough we were kissing again, my arms wrapped around Caspar's shoulders and his hands were on my waist. It was incredibly pleasant and though the scene was something straight out of a shitty romance movie, I enjoyed every second of it. We pulled away from eachother for a second, before we were kissing again. I didnt want it to end, maybe that was selfish of me but I cling to every drop of affection I get from anyone. Caspar moved away, hesitantly, then spoke.

"Luciano," he sighed, "maybe it's best if we arent, you know, boyfriends. Yet." That idiot. Of course I knew. Not to say I didnt want to be in a relationship with him, I did, but I'm not so stupid as to think that it could possibly work out at this point in time.

"I-I know.." I mumbled, my mood dropping to an even lower point than it was earlier.

"Maybe when we're older?" He asked, smiling. I smiled too. I dont like my smile, but it's a natural reaction when one is happy, so I couldnt do anything about it. Caspar kissed me one more time, quickly, before his Mother, Claire, started calling him from upstairs.

God damnit.


	2. Disgusting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abusive mothers and more incest, welcome to chapter two of Porcelain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More abusive shit though this time I wasnt given the task of writing it alone at four in the morning so it isnt as bad as last chapter's lmao. Also more incest.

The next few days were uneventful, however I noticed that Caspar had pretty much stopped going to school. I only noticed because on the few occasions that I left my room in the morning before Mother woke up, he was home. It made me happy, I guess, to know that he was there. I had been trying to smile more often when I was around him, and I can only hope that he doesnt notice how fake they are. Smiling through the pain is one thing I try not to do as it just makes me hurt more, but I've learned that at least it makes Caspar happy to see me act like I'm happy, so it's alright with me. One day, near the end of the week, I was alone in my room, Mother having gone out for a little while. I dont do much when I'm alone, other than paint or just lay there and think.

Thinking is something that, while simple, hurts. I hate being alone with my thoughts, however it's inevetable, because all living beings think. I was too tired on that day to get up and do anything, so I did what I do best other than create art. Lay there and think. I laid there, my arms above my head and my knees raised. It might not sound like one, but it's quite a comfortable position, or so I think. I started off thinking about myself, naturally I was thinking about the things I dislike about myself. There's quite a list. I dislike my looks, more specifically my body, as I cant be bothered to care about trivial things like eye color or whatever else. I'm short and, physically, very thin. I dont see myself as that, however. I know that my bones are visible, I probably look as if I'm dying of starvation, but I'm not. I see myself as fat and disgusting, I know deep down that I'm not, that I should maybe get some help, but I cant. I dont eat, or at least, I try my hardest not to, because I dont think I need to. I hate the size of my body, the scars on my legs from the cutting, the ugly freckles on my face, etcetera.

Tears begun streaking down my face as I tried to think of anything else. In an attempt to rid myself of the thoughts that were making me into a pathetic sobbing mess, I thought of Caspar. Anything about him. I dont see any flaws in him and, though I'm unloveable and disgusting, he isnt. He's good looking, kind, and though he's a bit of an idiot, he could have anyone he wants wrapped around his finger, but he chose to bother with me, and I dont know why, but I'm glad that he did. I'm glad that he decided to be interested in someone as hopeless as me. Maybe it's selfish to want to be with him, to want him to love me, but I cant bring myself to care how greedy I am for wanting him all to myself, to be his and nobody else's. A knock on my bedroom door interrupted my thought process. I knew it wasnt Mother, she doesnt bother knocking most of the time, and when she does, it isnt as soft as the one I'd just heard.

"...Come in," I mumbled, quickly wiping the tears from my face and then returning to the position I was in a few seconds ago.

"Um, pardon?" The voice on the other side asked. It was Caspar, thank god. I must've been too quiet, but really, I was trying to be, because I wouldnt've known who was on the other side of the door if they hadnt said something before coming in.

"Come in," I sighed, my voice louder than previously. The door to my room was opened, slowly, and Caspar walked in, shutting the door behind him and then sitting on the edge of my bed. I looked up at him, his stupid lopsided smile that I've, actually, come to find adorable.

"What's up?" He asked. I wondered if that was the best he could think of.

"...Not much," I replied, my arm that was closest to Caspar was moved down, and, pausing for a second, he grabbed my hand, our fingers lacing together. It was perfect, to say the least. Something as small as us holding hands was enough to make me as happy as possible. He squeezed my hand, gently, and I smiled. Caspar moved my hand to his mouth and kissed it, an act that, while I didnt comprehend, I appreciated.I pulled my hand back, and Caspar moved foreward. The space between our lips was soon nonexistant, something that I'd been hoping for the entire time that Caspar was with me. Slowly and gently we kissed, our eyes closing and Caspar's hands cupping my face. As someone who hasnt had much affection in their life, I loved every second of it.

That is, until we were interrupted by my bedroom door slamming open. Fuck. Mother stood in the doorway, glaring angrily at Caspar and I. She grabbed the nearest heavy thing, which I quickly noticed was a rather large book of mine on anatomy, and walked foreward, towards Caspar and I. Claire was in the background, pleading for Mother to stop, but there was nothing possible that anyone can do to really stop her. Caspar stood up, his hand still holding mine, tightly.

"Stop!" Caspar yelled, his hand grasping mine even tighter than before. I knew I was shaking, out of fear mainly, but I guess I should mention that I was also incredibly cold.

"Disgusting," Mother hissed. "How could you like such a disgusting person? He's worthless. He's good for nothing: completely and utterly worthless. How could anyone love someone like him?" I flinched, because I knew her words were true, and they hurt. Claire continued to cry and plead, clinging to Mother's arm.

"I love him." Caspar stated. Mother froze and looked almost frightened for a split second, before she laughed bitterly. I was terrified for Caspar's safety and my own. I never wanted him to get himself dragged into this, it was supposed to be just for me to deal with on my own.

"You're a first." Mother giggled, coldly, glaring at Caspar as if he was even more disgusting than I. Claire dropped to the floor and clung to Mother's leg, crying silently. Mother threw the book at me, growling as it just missed my face and hit against the wall behind me. She stormed out of the room, Claire following behind, and slammed the door. I curled up in a ball atop my bed, shaking from fear and the fact that I was still fucking freezing. I hid my face behind my knees and started crying, but my hand was still being held by Caspar. It was a bit of a reminder to me that I was still alive.

"Luciano..." Caspar sighed. He sat beside me and wrapped his arms around my, physically, tiny waist, and pulled me closer to him. We remained quiet for a little bit, before Caspar leaned in and kissed the side of my head. "Whatever she says isnt true, you're of every worth to me." I flinched and continued staring off into space, my face still hidden.

"It's true... I-I'm worthless, nobody wants me. I'd die, but I cant even do that right," I mumbled, tears still running down my cheeks. Caspar Sighed, holding me so tightly that I momentarily wished that he'd be more gentle with someone as fragile as I am.

"That isnt true, I want you. And I think you have more worth than any amount of gold in the world, any amount of precious jewels. Nobody can ever be perfect, and your Mother is far from it." I looked up at Caspar, and he sighed quietly as he cupped my face in his hands. "I love you," he said, before kissing me gently. It only lasted a second or two, but I still appreciated the small gesture of affection.

"I love you, too." I mumbled. Caspar rubbed his fingers over my back and I honestly didnt want him to because I know for a fact that he could most likely feel my bones, but I also didnt want him to stop, because I love any comfort or affection I receive from him. Caspar soon fell asleep and I lay there beside him for a while before falling asleep as well. I was underneath the sheets of my bed, trying to hide my disgusting body, and Caspar was laying over the sheets, keeping me as close as possible.


	3. Good enough for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luciano and Caspar finally get together, oh my god, someone get the confetti.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much of Luciano's thinking is up to par with mine when it comes to self-destructive thoughts so I tend to ramble on and on about them, sorry. Kinda.

Caspar and I spent years in love, however I've always felt that I wasnt good enough for him. I spent so much of my time improving myself for him, because I knew that while he wasnt vocal about it, there were things he didnt like about me, though, they were all things that were horrible for my physical and mental health that if I was in the right mind, I'd try to change for my own benefit, not to make someone else like me more.

He didnt like that I cut myself, so I tried my hardest to stop. He didnt like that I was anorexic, so I also tried to fix that, though, it was awful for my self esteem, but I've been much more stable since mostly recovering from the eating disorder. No more being freezing cold no matter now hot everyone else is, I didnt bruise as easily after recovering (Though, I'll always be fragile), and other things. The only downsides were the ugly stretchmarks on my hips and the damage that gaining weight did to my self-esteem. I'm not sure what hurt more, being told that you look like you're starving to death, or weighing yourself one day and coming to the realization that, holy shit, you're 40 pounds heavier, you fucking fatass. However, I guess I'm happy with the fact that I dont have any of the shitty side-effects of being too skinny anymore. I also cut and dyed my hair one day when I was fifteen, as a bit of a 'go fuck yourself' to my Mother. I've noticed that every now and again, on the rare occasions I actually leave the house, some people stare at me. I guess they're wondering what the fuck my gender is, though, it's not my fault I have wide hips and generally look more feminine than masculine. Though, if you were out and came along someone who's short and skinny with wide hips and a metric shitton of makeup on their face, you'd probably think they're a girl too. Honestly all I'm lacking is the tits and. Uh. Lady parts. Anyway, my appearance has changed allot since I was thirteen, and now that I'm sixteen, my confidence has gone up considerably, though it's still quite low.

One day, Caspar, our Father, and I were all sitting in the livingroom. Now, I've been with other people before, but not romantically. The most I've ever done with people is have sex, and I've never really loved anyone at all, honestly. Thomas, Tomoe, and my Father are all people that I've been with for sex, though Thomas was a one-time thing and we've never spoken about it afterwards.

"..I ought to leave you alone," Father spoke. I looked up from my sketchbook and blinked. It didnt matter to me if he was in the room or not, because quite frankly, I didnt care. I was too busy drawing. Caspar didnt do anything either, and Father just left, shuffling akwardly out of the livingroom. Caspar turned to face me and started to speak.

"Hm, you're looking particularly beautiful today," he said, happily. I stared at the paper in front of me, a blush slowly spreading across my face. Caspar moved closer.

"I'm not beautiful." I stated. Damn it, just when you're thinking your self esteem is alright, someone fucking says something, and it all goes crashing down.

"Well you're beautiful to me." Shut the fuck up, Caspar. Please.

"I'm not." I said, again. Caspar sighed.

"May I see what you're working on?" He asked. I hesitated. I wasnt done sketching, so it still looked really rough and messy. I slowly turned the sketchbook around so Caspar could look at it. The drawing of skulls and butterflies I was doing wasnt anywhere close to finished, and I really didnt want to show him it until it was, but I also didnt want to be rude. Caspar looked up at me when he was done looking at my unfinished art, and I quickly turned my sketchbook away from his view, and looked away from him.

"You're amazing," Caspar said. I shrugged. Call me egotistical, but I already know that I'm artistically gifted. I blushed anyway, appreciating the compliment. Caspar leaned closer and my breath hitched slightly as I turned to look at him.

"Y'know," Caspar began, in a more serious tone than previously. "The art you produce is almost as divine as you."

Soon my sketchbook was on the floor and I was pressed against the couch, Caspar's hands on my waist and our lips together in a somewhat sloppy yet surprisingly perfect kiss. My arms wrapped around Caspar's shoulders as I pulled him closer, and Caspar's fingers were grabbing me and my sweater that I've had for almost my entire life. Or at least it seems like I've had it for that long. Caspar's grip loosened and he slowly pulled away from the kiss a few moments later, his breathing heavy.

"P-Please," he mumbled, quietly. "Please, can you be my boyfriend...?" I paused, in shock, mostly. I've waited about four years for this. I've fucking waited so long because I wanted to get my own problems sorted out. And now I have the opportunity to be with him, the man I've always felt I wasnt good enough for. I smiled, leaned up, and kissed Caspar. He kissed back, softly, and then pulled away.

"Is that a yes..?" He questioned. I rolled my eyes, the smile on my face fading ever so slightly.

"Of course it's a yes, idiot."


	4. Idiots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title brought to you by Scar from The Lion King. Luciano is surrounded by idiots, and some other stuff happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No clue when ch5 will be done, it depends on Boyfriend. I'm kinda just following his lead because he's more literate than I am and he's the one who started writing anyway

One particular day I was sat in my room painting, the only real thing I'm actually good at other than being able to drink two litres of coffee in an hour, though, I'm not sure if that's really something to be good at or just a result of insomnia and caffeine addiction. I'm also pretty good at being higher than a goddamn kite, something I've gotten good at from my recovery with anorexia. Being stoned makes you hungry and not care about what effect eating will have on you. Plus it makes you happy and giggly and needless to say it's helped allot. My three acheivements in life are painting, coffee, and pot. Kinda says allot about me. Well, I'm also good at making Caspar happy. And speaking of Caspar.. After painting for a while I got bored, obviously. There's only so much time a dude can spend sitting in front of a canvas, and even I get bored sometimes, even though painting is kinda literally my life. My attention was drawn to the fact that I hadnt yet straightened my hair after showering this morning, and now that it's dry, it's all curly and weird-looking. Well, weird-looking being my opinion on it. I set down my paintbrush and left my room, walking down the hall to the bathroom where I keep my flat-iron and hairspray, among other things. Someone was showering, and I could've been an asshole and walked right in, but instead I knocked like the considerate person I sometimes am. "Oh!" A voice on the other side of the wall spoke.

"Uh, one second. I wont be long." It was Caspar. Great. Wow. Just my fucking luck.

"You better not be long." I sighed. I just wanted to make my hair not look fucky, god damnit. Caspar soon walked out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist.

"Nice look," I giggled. Those totally werent the right words, but at the time, I couldnt've cared less. Caspar blushed and I rolled my eyes, walking into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. I sat on top of the counter that's in front of the mirror, and turned on the straightener. It takes forever to warm up enough to be usable, though, maybe I'm overexadgerating how long it takes.

I was soon distracted by the mirror in front of me, and realized just how long it's been since I've looked in one on my own free will. I've always tried to avoid them, going so far as to cover the one in my bedroom with a black sheet so I cant look inside of it, but sometimes in situations like this, it's unavoidable. I stared into the mirror for what seemed like a few hours but was actually most likely just a few minutes. Trying to look past my insecurities, I quietly noted everything that I could see about myself, because it's hard spending literally years not being completely sure what you look like.

From even just looking at my face I can see why most people think I'm a woman. My eyes are a dark lavender and I have freckles, something that I personally dont like because they cover my whole body. My face is pretty feminine, and the fact that I cover my eyes in makeup just makes it even more so. I have many piercings, my ears are spaced and I have a tongue piercing, to name the two that are visible when I have clothes on. My collarbones were visible underneath my hoodie, a reminder that even though I wasnt anorexic any more, I was still physically stick thin. I dont think I'd ever be anything else, though. I'm not even muscular, for example I cant lift heavy things without just dropping them a second later. Unfortunately, I still see someone fat and disgusting when I look in a mirror. I try to look past it, tell myself that I cant stop eating again, but occasionally I slip, stop eating, and my thoughts turn into the same things I was thinking when I was starving myself in order to be thinner, despite the fact that I was already thin to begin with. I was just never good enough. Recovery is all trial and error, but luckily I'm too close to finally being ok to give up. I hate mirrors. I was interrupted from my thoughts by the beeping that my flatiron makes when it's hot enough to be used. A little while later, after I was finished straightening my hair, there was a knock on the door. Whoever was outside had perfect timing. I sighed.

"What?"

"Well," the voice said. It was Caspar, again. "Would you like to come outside with me? Phoenix and I-"

"Yeah, sure." I interrupted, smiling. Phoenix and I were good friends, well, he was one of my only friends, actually. He was a bit of an outcast, but I didnt mind, because I wasnt one to judge, having been shut inside a house and abused for most of my life. I was happy being around him on the rare times I used to sneak out, because he was so carefree. He has a habit of dragging Caspar and I into forests with him, however. I quickly sprayed some hairspray into my hair and left the bathroom to go catch up with Caspar.

Phoenix, Caspar, and I were wandering into the forest near the house, and I was so close to Caspar that he took the opportunity to wrap an arm around my waist. Phoenix didnt say anything, but he was too focused on the forest around him, most likely.

"We're close," he mumbled, happily. "I've found something really beautiful." Phoenix started running through the forest, something I've always been amazed at, considering how he almost never wears shoes. Caspar dragged me along to where Phoenix was, and honestly, he wasnt lying when he said the place was beautiful.

The meadow was absolutely gorgeous. It reminded me of something from a famous piece of art, not something out of reality. The trees and flowers were so diverse in the types and colors, and Phoenix grinned. "I told you it was beautiful," he said, cheekily.

"We never denied you," Caspar smiled, his hand holding mine tighter. I looked up at him, a slight smile on my face. Phoenix shrugged and continued walking through the field, Caspar and I following, our fingers laced together. We returned in the evening, the midsummer sky was a beautiful mixture of oranges, pinks, and yellows, and the atmosphere was full of nostalgia. We first arrived at Phoenix's house, and he grinned as he backed away into the huge, mansion-like house that his family lived in, waving his arms about like an idiot.

"I'll see you later, right?!" he yelled, the dumb smile still on his face.

"Of course," Caspar replied, waving with his free hand. Caspar and I were smiling as we walked home in the quiet. I soon rested my head against his arm.

"You had a nice day, right?" Caspar asked, his voice soft. I smiled and squeezed his hand.

"Yeah, it was good." I answered.

Caspar giggled, quietly. "Yeah, it was."

We were soon quiet again, and I pressed my face against Caspar's arm more than previously.

"...I'm tired." I said. Caspar paused, grinned, and then picked me up. I screamed and clung to Caspar. "P-Put me down!" I yelled, scratching at Caspar's shoulders.

"But I thought you said you were tired--?" He questioned.

"Put me d-doowwnnn..!" I whined. I fucking meant tired as in I havent slept in two days and ran out of coffee, not tired as in I need to be carried, he's such an idiot..! Caspar rolled his eyes and put me back on the ground. Thank god. I dont like being picked up. At all. I pouted and looked away from Caspar. He leaned in closer to me.

"Sorry," he mumbled. I looked up at him and blushed.

"I-It's okay, I guess.." I sighed, turning away. Caspar kissed my cheek and that just made me blush even more. I slipped my hand back into Caspar's. "...Idiot..."

We soon arrived at the front door of the house, having run all the way back. Caspar paused in front of the door and tilted his head to face me.

"Y'Know, I think having you here today made everything so much better." He said.

"...You think..?" I asked, blushing ever so slightly.

"Uh-Huh," he replied, smiling. I looked away from him, embarrassedly. Though, slowly, I looked back up at him. Caspar's hand moved to cup my cheek, our breaths hitched and our lips were incredibly close together.

"I love you," he whispered, before kissing me softly.

"I love you, too."


	5. Addiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yay the sex happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh. so. yeah. sex and stuff. yay. orz im so bad at writing sex scenes man its hard to narrate sexual things through the eyes of a snarky teen boy

I walked into the living-room and noticed caspar on the couch, his guitar in his lap and music sheets in his hands. I leaned on the arm of the couch, looking down at him.

"Yo," I smiled, and Caspar looked up.

"Whoa, I didnt see you there-"

I giggled. "No shit, considering how surprised you looked." Caspar rolled his eyes and patted the area of the couch beside him.

"Come sit." he grinned, and I flopped down beside him. Damn, I am so fuckin graceful. Caspar strummed a few chords on the guitar and I smirked, curling up beside him and kissing his cheek. He slid the guitar to the side and wrapped his arms around my waist, dragging me closer to him. We smiled and he nuzzled his nose against mine, before we started kissing. Our lips were soon locked, his tongue exploring the inside of my mouth. We parted to breathe, a string of saliva connecting our bottom lips. I moaned and Caspar's lips moved downwards. 

The kisses on my neck were driving me crazy, and honestly it turned me on so much that I swear I could've came right then and there. Caspar's fingers moved underneath my sweater and he kept kissing my neck, something that I'd have to later tell him about how much it fucking turns me on. Caspar pulled away and tugged my sweater off, one of his knees between my legs. I squirmed uncomfortably, I was so fucking hard that it hurt and Caspar's knee against my dick certainly wasnt helping. At all. He looked me up and down before leaning in and kissing along my chest. I felt so vulnerable, but I loved it anyway. He slipped his hands behind my body, his fingernails scraping against my skin as he kissed down to my lower abdomen. My back arched and my eyes closed, slowly.

Soon Caspar was taking off my belt, and we were kissing again, our breathing heavy and something as simple as kissing felt more intense than it normally would.

My jeans were soon off, and Caspar's hand was wrapped around my dick. His tongue poked out of his mouth and ran up the length of my dick, top to bottom. I moaned as he continued, my back arching. Caspar's sharp nails scraped across my skin and he placed his mouth just above my dick, grabbed my hips, and pushed his head down, beginning to suck. My moaning grew louder as one of Caspar's hands slid down to my inner thigh and my hips bucked, causing his nails to pierce my skin. I've always been a masochist, to an extreme point, and the pain was what sent me over the edge. 

I mumbled something, but I guess Caspar didnt hear me, because all he replied with was a muffled sound of confusion. Fuck it.

"I-I," I stuttered, being too close to orgasm to have the brain power to form a proper sentence. "Gonna.. A-Ah, c-cum." Caspar continued sucking and I moaned, coming into Caspar's mouth. Oh god. He swallowed.

I stared at Caspar as he tugged off his clothes, all I was hoping for was that he wouldnt kiss me until he's brushed his goddamn teeth. My hopes were soon nonexistent as Caspar leaned in and kissed me, I moaned, somewhat uncomfortable with the fact that this guy was sucking my dick and then swallowed my cum literally less than a few seconds ago. Uh, ew.

Minutes later, Caspar was thrusting into me, and I was a moaning mess beneath him. It's good that I'm extremely masochistic, because he didnt use any lube, and his dick is huge. I subconsciously wondered if he was even a virgin, because damn, he was good, especially for someone who was probably a first-timer. My moans soon turned into screams as he pounded into me, both of us in complete ecstasy. I was soon pinned to the couch, Caspar holding my forearms down. My head lolled to one side and I stared up at Caspar, unable to completely focus my eyes for more than a few seconds. 

"I'm gonna cum," he mumbled, before kissing me roughly. I moaned and dug my nails into the back of Caspar's shoulders so hard that he started bleeding. He gasped and then moaned, coming inside of me. I came again a second or two afterwards, and once Caspar was done, he pulled out and then dragged me into his arms, looking down at me in exhaustion. 

I took a second to realize how huge Caspar was in comparison to me. Though, I cant complain. I like feeling protected and safe, so I dont mind the fact that he's probably about a foot taller than me, and much stronger, too. He could probably easily lift two of me, as opposed to myself who cant even lift a stack of canvases. He's also so damn masculine, compared to me, who's the complete opposite. Ugh, he's so cute.

We looked at eachother and both of us giggled, quietly, Caspar's fingers winding into my hair. We were so close together that we were like two bunnies that were also very close together. Caspar kissed the top of my head and we shifted so that our bodies fit together perfectly. I didnt dare move, because the moment was so wonderful that I couldnt bring myself to care about anything  
other than being with Caspar. We kissed again, and that was that.


End file.
